


Pure

by Pretty_Little_MockingBird



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Older Man/Younger Woman
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-02
Updated: 2016-11-02
Packaged: 2018-08-28 17:44:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8455879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pretty_Little_MockingBird/pseuds/Pretty_Little_MockingBird
Summary: Its Sansa's 18th Birthday, so she goes to a club and who does she see?





	

"Oberyn?" Petyr squinted his eyes, trying to see through the dim lighting of the dance club he was in from his position against the wall. "Oberyn?" The Dornish man had begged him to come to this club with him, and now he disappeared.  
.  
Petyr finally caught a glimpse of wild dark haired man hair on the dance floor. He was dancing with some young college girl. Their movements were so erotic that if their clothes were to disappear they'd practically be having sex.

Petyr rolled his eyes. "I suppose I won't be seeing him for the rest of the night." he said under his breath.

"Won't be seeing who?" a soft voice asked

Petyr whipped his head to the right, eyes widening in surprise. "Sansa?!"  
The teenager gave a shy wave. "Hi." she said with a smile.

"What are you doing here?"

 

"It's my birthday!"

Petyr allowed his eyes to wander over the form of his student. She was wearing a form fitting, nearly tight strapless white dress that stopped just above mid thigh and on her feet were white high heels. Her hair was slightly curled and her makeup was light and airy. She looked mature, but she held herself with the awkwardness of a child. And her eyes, her beautiful cerulean blue eyes were wide and open. The perfect picture of sinful purity. 

 

By the time Petyr managed to refocus his gaze, noticing Sansa was blushing, awkwardly he cleared his throat, "Happy birthday, Sansa. How old are you now?"

"Eighteen." Sansa looked down and toed the ground. "So, y'know, that means...I'm legally an adult." She looked back up at Petyr, her gaze hesitant but clear.

Petyr smirked. "Yes, I suppose by American laws you are." He angled his head towards the bar. "Allow me to buy you a present."

 

They walked to the bar, Petyr ordering a glass of wine for himself and a virgin drink for the birthday girl. 

"Come on, Petyr, I'm an adult now. I should have an adult drink."

Petyr chuckled. "Nice try sweetling, but no."

 

Sansa sighed, a slight pout forming on her pretty pink lips. "Fine."

Petyr took a sip of his drink. "You're adorable."

 

Sansa's pout hardened. "No I am not. I'm a beautiful woman. Not some “adorable” little girl."

 

Petyr leaned back against the bar. "Tell me, Sweetling. Why are you so eager to grow up? You’re still quite young. You should enjoy youth while you can."

Sansa clenched her fists around the base of her mocktail. "Youth is fine. Childishness is a burden."

Petyr took another sip. "I suppose I understand. Never being taken seriously, believing wholeheartedly that life is a fairy tale and no matter what you’d come out on top… What a beautiful lie."

They were silent as they continued to nurse their drinks. Petyr watched as Oberyn went from dancing with his new "friend", to kissing, to walking out of the club. If only the Dornish man at least had the decency to let him know he was leaving. 

Petyr noticed the subtle swaying of Sansa's body that adjusted to the beat of each new song the D.J played. "Would you care to dance?"

Sansa started, a soft blush painting her cheeks. "Oh, no, I don't dance."

Petyr tilted his head, chuckling softly. "You've been taking dance lessons for years."

Sansa’s blush deepened, as she nodded. "But that's formal dance. I don't know how to do anything like that." She gestured towards the dancefloor where people were still undulating.

Petyr held out his hand. "Neither do I."

Sansa smiled. "Well, I guess we're a perfect match." Her blush deepened. "For dancing, I mean."

Petyr ignored the flutter in in his chest. "Is that a yes, sweetling?"

The teenager placed her hand on top of Petyr's. "Yes."

A new song began as Petyr led his student to the dancefloor.

You see it from the outside  
 You're running toward the wall   
Swinging from your blind side   
But you don't know me at all

The older man placed his hand on Sansa's lower back. "I'll lead." Her partner could do nothing but nod. 

I've been here too many times before  
 And your tears don't mean a thing  
 I only come when you scream

 

They began their dance, a precise and sultry tango. 

 

I told you  
 Child, don't follow me home   
You're just too perfect for my hands to hold  
 If you choose to stay, you'll throw it all away  
 And I just want to take your innocence

Petyr held Sansa close, the feeling of the teenager's soft and lithe body flooding through her senses. He closed his eyes, barely suppressing a shudder. He stopped the hand that was sliding down his student's smooth body.

Is this what you wanted   
Did I make your dreams come true?  
 You're sitting in a corner  
 Wondering what you got into

Petyr's eyes snapped open. Sansa had moved her hand very low on Petyr's back. She was mere centimeters away from completely groping him. Sansa's face was angled down, but Petyr could still see the blush on her face. "Sweetling," she warned.

And you ache for things you don't understand  
 That your tears don't mean a thing  
 I only come when you scream, and I told you

Sansa looked up a bit flustered but unafraid. "What? We're just..." She pressed her body even closer to Petyr's. "We're just dancing."

Petyr sighed. "This is more than a dance, Sweetling."

 

Child, don't follow me home   
You're just too perfect for my hands to hold   
If you choose to stay, you'll throw it all away  
 And I just want to take your innocence

Her big blue eyes shined with hope, but darken with a hint of lust. "It is?"

Petyr's grip on sansa's hip tightened. "Sansa, I can't...we can't..." he groaned softly into her ear

"Why not?" she asks with a whimper

There's no such thing as fate  
 Only yourself to blame you never walked away

 

"You're a child."

 

"I'm an adult."

 

"By law. Age does not equal maturity." He smirked. "Just look at Professor Oberyn."

 

"Don't joke about this!"

 

Child, don't follow me home   
You're just too perfect for my hands to hold  
 If you choose to stay, you'll throw it all away   
And I just want to take your innocence

"This isn't funny!" Sansa's gaze was fierce, filled with affection and slight desperation. "I want you Petyr, and I'm not going to stop."

 

Petyr maintained eye contact. "Sweetling, you don't even know me."

 

Sansa's brow furrowed. "What do you mean? I've known you for years, you were my uncle till Lysa passed away. I’ve known you practically my whole life."

"No, you haven't. You've never truly known me. My life, my mind. You haven't known any of it." His movements sped up, taking complete control of their dance, leading Sansa in a complex and sensual tango. "You don't know anything." he whispers in her ear.

Child, don't follow me home   
You're just too perfect for my hands to hold  
 If you choose to stay, you'll throw it all away  
 And I just want to take your innocence

And I just want to take your innocence

And I just want to take

They stood there as the song ended. Their breathing was heavy, and their grips on each other were nearly tight enough to bruise. Their gazes were locked and intense. Petyr felt himself surrendering to the siren's call of Sansa's lips.

There was a deafening applause around them.

Petyr glanced back, looking around at the crowd of people clapping for them. Then looked back at Sansa, chest heaving and gaze dark with desire. Petyr's hands itched to run over her nubile form. To grab and caress and take. To thread her fingers through Sansa's beautiful, perfect hair and pull until her neck was exposed for his teeth and tongue. In that moment he longed for nothing more.

He had to get out of there. He had to leave before he ravished Sansa right there on the dancefloor. He hadn't even turned from the girl completely before there was a hand wrapping around his wrist.

"Petyr, wait!"  
Petyr stopped, his back still to sansa. "Leave me, Sansa."

Her grip tightened. "No! I know you felt what I did back there." She placed her second hand on Petyr's back. "I know you want me, too."

Petyr clenched his fists. "I can't."

 

"Why not? Because of Joffery? He and I are done and he knows that. He’s with Margery anyway. Oberyn can't judge you, he just left with someone tonight! And as for my mom...I'm sure she'd understand." Sansa wrapped her arms around Petyr's torso and pressed against him tightly. "The only one stopping you, is you."

Petyr turned around grabbing sansa's arm. He only took a moment to look into her eyes before slamming their lips together. He poured every ounce of his repressed passion and desire into the kiss. He plunged her tongue into Sansa's willing mouth, forsaking all technique for sensation. He just wanted to take this moment to feel Sansa.

 

His Sansa.

He walked forward until his student's back was flat against the brick wall of the building they were in front of. He ran his hands up Sansa's arms to her shoulders, then ran them down her body. He traced the outline of the teenager's full breasts, swallowing the moan that his touch caused. One hand continued its journey southward while the other sank into Sansa's hair. It's was just as soft as he had imagined. He yanked sharply, giving Sansa's bottom lip and gentle bite as it detached from his own. The bite he gave to the teenager's neck wasn't quite as gentle. He lapped and sucked, huffing out heavy breaths against Sansa's neck. He groped at a smooth, pale thigh and brought it parallel to his hip. Petyr felt his hips roll involuntarily. 

 

"Petyr!"

He froze almost instantly  
.  
Petyr backed away frantically. Sansa was slumped against the wall. Her lipstick was smudged and her hair was mussed. Her legs were trembling and at some point one of her shoes had fallen off.   
Her breath was rough and heavy, and her eyes were pleading for Petyr to continue.   
She looked thoroughly fucked and Petyr had barely even started on her. He couldn't help but imagine what she would look like if he decided to take his time. Tied up with full breasts rising and falling, pretty skin marked, lips swollen, perhaps a pretty collar. It would be completely beautiful. 

"Petyr?"

It would be completely wrong. 

 

Petyr held his hands against her stomach. He sighed in frustration. "I'm so sorry, Sansa. I jus- I can't..."

 

Frustration burned in Sansa's own eyes. "Petyr, you don't have to protect me! I know what I'm doing!"

"No you don't! Sansa, I am not pure or good like you. The things I've imagined doing to you..." Petyr closed his eyes, a fierce shudder of arousal sweeping through him. "Sansa, I will ruin you. I will steal your very life. The years will pass and you will look up one day and realize that you've wasted your time on a deviant perverted old man." 

 

Sansa had no idea what to say. "Petyr..."

 

Petyr backed away further. "You deserve better than me. You deserve someone who will give you the world. Someone who doesn't want to hoard your love selfishly. Someone who doesn't get jealous when another person looks at you the wrong way. Someone who doesn't assault you in some filthy alley! Don't follow me, Sansa. Stay away."

 

With one last tortured look Petyr made his way to his car and drove away.


End file.
